


Nightmares

by scary_cas



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scary_cas/pseuds/scary_cas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick suffers from recurring nightmares and Daryl is the only person who can help him piece his life back together. Fluff and angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

It was always the same dream. Lori running through the tombs, shrieking, dark hair flailing out behind her. She would be running towards him and he'd be stuck still in place, unable to help her. Then he would see them, a mass of figures lurking out from the darkness, snarling and growling. The air would be thick with the stench of rotting flesh and then he would hear the shambling footsteps growing louder, chasing after Lori and drawing closer towards her. Next it would be her shouting and calling for him, and finally it would end with her screams and the sounds of teeth and hands ripping her apart. He would always wake himself up by screaming. 

*

Daryl knew it was Rick screaming. Nightmares were becoming increasingly common place now, even his sleep was ripped apart by dark dreams. Normally Daryl would just shrug it off and go back to sleep. Rick was his friend but he was also an adult, and Daryl doubted Rick would really want him to go into his cell and get him to pour out his feelings. But this time something was different. Rick was crying. Pain flared up in Daryl's chest as he pictured his friend curled up in a tight ball in his cell, crying himself back into the nightmare filled sleep. He couldn't just sit back and do nothing this time. Daryl had promised himself after they had to leave the farm that he wouldn't turn back into his old self; he wouldn't let himself become the detached redneck again. 

He hurriedly dressed and quietly walked over to Rick's cell. Rick had started to lock his cell door at night, which worried everyone, so Daryl had to knock on the bars to get his attention.  
"Rick?" He called out to him, "You alright?"  
When his faced appeared between the rusting bars Daryl's concern grew. Rick's eyes were bloodshot and red from crying, some tears still running down his face, leaving pale tracks through the layer of dirt that seemed to coat everyone nowadays. His hands were trembling and he couldn't even look Daryl in the eye.  
"You gonna let me or what?" Daryl joked with Rick softly.  
"Yeah.. just let me get the key." Rick's voice cracked, filled with pain and hurt.  
Daryl's mind raced over what Rick could have had nightmares about. It could have been a number of things: the looming threat of the Governor, the walkers, Lori. He knew that Rick blamed himself for what happened with Lori. No matter how many times he'd told his friend that he wasn't to blame and there was nothing he could have done to change the outcome, Rick still beat himself up for it. And no matter how many times he asked Rick to talk about it, to get it off his chest, his friend drew into to himself deeper than he had before. Rick was trying to shut himself out of the world, and as much as Daryl would like to do the same, he knew that they wouldn't survive here without everyone working together. He found himself remembering what Rick had said, that they had to survive this by pulling together, not apart. But Daryl felt helpless now, how could he help his friend if Rick wouldn't talk to him about it? 

*

Rick quietly picked up the keys and clung onto them. He knew that Daryl was only trying to help him, but he could feel the fear of talking to his friend about the nightmares gnawing away at him. He pushed himself to turn around and walk back to Daryl, the keys shaking and clattering in his trembling hands. He wasn't sure that he'd even be able to open the door himself, so he handed Daryl the keys through the bars. As he opened the door Rick turned around and sat back on the bed. He felt ridiculous for letting himself get into this state and he angrily wiped away the hot tears. Daryl had probably already seen them, but he didn't want him to think he'd grown weak. There wasn't any place for weakness in this world anymore.  
"You want to talk about it?" Daryl asked him, his voice hushed, as if raising it any higher would cause Rick to back into the corner like a wild animal.  
Rick took a long, deep breath, "I don't know, Daryl."  
He tried to keep himself together, pictured himself falling apart and pulling pieces of himself back to where they belonged, but he could feel himself slipping.  
"I get them too. The nightmares. They feel so real." Daryl took one step closer to Rick, ready to pull him into a tight hug if he started crying again.  
"Wh- what are yours about?" 

*

Daryl didn't want to answer him, but it was pretty clear that Rick needed a distraction. Maybe if he talked about his own problems, he could get Rick to talk about his.  
"Mostly about my mum," he replied slowly, "and my dad. He was violent, you know?"  
Rick nodded and Daryl's heart fluttered.  
"Hershel told me about the scars. I wanted to ask you about it, but I never found a good time to talk to you."  
He knew. It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from Daryl's shoulders.  
"He told me that hurting me was for my own good, told me I deserved it. That what you feel like Rick? That you deserve the nightmares?"  
Rick drew in another shaky breath, "I probably do deserve it, Daryl."  
"Rick-"  
"No. I was supposed to be there for her Daryl! I let it happen. I was too busy trying to be some kind of ringleader that I forgot I was supposed to protect her." Rick sighed and held his head in his hands, trying desperately to keep himself together.  
"You were trying to protect everyone." Another step closer.  
Rick looked up at him, blue eyes focused so intently on Daryl that he felt like he should look away. "It ain't your fault Rick, none of it is."

*

Daryl glanced worriedly over Rick's body. Somehow he seemed smaller than Daryl had remembered, skin tugging over bone more tightly, deep dark circles permanently etched into the fragile skin under his eyes. Every detail about Rick screamed out that he was tired, and it pained Daryl to see him like this, to see the man that had saved his life countless times being pulled away from him. Daryl often had confusing thoughts about Rick, thoughts that maybe they could one day be more than friends. He looked up to him, respected him, but felt that Rick loved him more like a brother and not in any kind of romantic way. Daryl would sometimes picture himself with Rick, hugging him, holding his hand, sometimes even kissing him. He knew it was hopeless, there was no time for love in such a broken world, and he knew Rick wouldn't love him in that way. 

*

Rick looked down at his shaking hands to distract himself from Daryl's piercing eyes. He knew Daryl was worrying over him, knew he was hurting him and he hated himself for it. He felt like saying more to him but he just couldn't get the words to come out of his mouth. It was always like this when he was around Daryl. He would get nervous, his mouth would go dry but he would feel weightless, as if being around Daryl lifted the heavy weight off his frail shoulders. It had been like this with Lori, but how could he possibly move on? And he didn't want to make it awkward between them both by telling Daryl what he truly felt. He wasn't sure how he'd act, wasn't even sure if Daryl would love him as more than just a friend or a brother. He felt too broken, and he didn't want to burden Daryl with that. 

"It's pretty late Rick, I'm gonna go get some rest. It’ll be better in the morning, you just need to try and get some sleep." Daryl said softly.  
Rick felt the anxiety begin to claw its way back to the surface as he watched Daryl turn away. Without even knowing what he was doing he stood up and meekly grabbed onto his arm.  
Daryl turned to face him, eyes exploring Rick's own.  
Rick cleared his throat, "Please don't leave me Daryl. I don't get nightmares when someone is here with me, and I don't think I'll be able to get any sleep if you leave. Please stay. I need you."  
He felt stupid for saying it, but Rick needed Daryl, and he wished that Daryl would need him too. 

*

Daryl felt like he was in a dream. No one had ever said to him that they needed him before, and he had to fight back tears.  
"Sure Rick," he smiled, "I'll stay with you."  
Rick let go of his arm and was about to turn back to the bed when Daryl hugged him tightly, letting Rick cry onto his chest, damping the fabric. He comforted him, rubbing circles into his back and telling him that everything was going to be just fine. He vowed to himself that if anyone ever tried to hurt Rick he would end them, not even taking a second to think about doing it. He felt one of Rick's hands ghost over his hip and it felt like a jolt of electricity passing through him. Every single one of his nerves was on fire and he thought that Rick's body fit perfectly in his, two pieces of a worn out puzzle finally fitting together at last. 

*

Rick never wanted to leave Daryl's strong embrace but he was growing tired with each second that past. It felt as though the nightmare had drained every last piece of energy he had in his body, and he found himself leaning into Daryl to keep himself upright. Daryl was so warm and so soft, the faint smell of leather and cigarette smoke threatening to make him drift off into a hopefully dreamless sleep. But he didn't want to go to sleep, at least not yet, there was just one more thing he wanted to try. Slowly, he pulled back out of the hug a bit and looked at Daryl. His hair was scruffy and wild and his eyes glowed brightly in the soft glow of the lamp light. The corner of his lips pulled up in a faint smile and he looked tired too, as if any second now they could both fall onto the bed and collapse into sleep. Gingerly, he leaned into to Daryl once more, this time touching his lips to Daryl's. 

His lips were warm and soft and rough at the edges where Daryl chews on them when he gets anxious. Rick's nose brushed gently against Daryl's cheek and he could hear his heart beat growing louder and faster, his own heart rate increasing too. He let his hands twist into Daryl's hair as Daryl's hands moved up over Rick's torso, delicately tracing over the rough skin. His lungs started to plead for air but it was too good and Daryl's lips tasted too sweet for him to let go. He never wanted this moment to end and he could feel his soul glowing as a soft moan escaped from Daryl's lips. He could slowly feel himself being rebuilt, the fractured pieces of himself being sewn back together as his hands met to entwine with Daryl's. It was over too quickly but they both needed rest, both needed to feel each other’s bodies pressed up close together, both needed to have someone holding them together in their arms. 

*

Daryl knew that he would never let Rick pull himself into the deep darkness again, but if he somehow managed to do it he would always been there to pull him back up to the surface. Once he had safely wrapped them both up in a thick and protective layer of blankets he let himself whisper the words that he never thought he would ever be able to say to another person again.  
"I love you, Rick." He whispered, snuggling up closer.  
He was answered back with deep snores and he smiled to himself, feeling content and hopeful for the first time in ages.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!


End file.
